


A Loving Hand (Around Her Throat)

by earis



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types
Genre: Breathplay, Dark Rey (Star Wars), Dominant Kylo Ren, Dubious Consent, Empress Rey, F/M, Kylo Ren is Not Nice, Rey Palpatine
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-20
Updated: 2020-04-20
Packaged: 2021-03-02 01:26:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 614
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23756845
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/earis/pseuds/earis
Summary: Empress Rey Palpatine's outfit is perfection.  Except for the fact that the neckline is a little low for colder temperatures.  First Knight Kylo Ren has a solution.
Relationships: Rey/Ben Solo | Kylo Ren
Comments: 14
Kudos: 84





	A Loving Hand (Around Her Throat)

**Author's Note:**

> This fic came about in response to tumblr user galacticidiots's answer to an anonymous prompt. 
> 
> The prompt was:
> 
> "since dark!Rey has a cut in her dark outfit (the one with the hood), she gets cold around the neck sometimes. what kind of accessory would Kylo give her that would compliment her outfit in colder climates?"
> 
> galacticidiots answered:
> 
> "A loving hand around her throat (it’s her favourite necklace)"
> 
> And thus, boom!, a plotbunny was born.

When she designed her dress, the Empress had its visual effect in mind, not its suitability for below freezing temperatures. The night air, however, is frigid. She shivers, imperceptibly.

Almost imperceptibly.

“Your Majesty, are you cold?” Kylo Ren, First Knight of the Empire, asks.

He’s right behind her. His tone suggests deference, but his question is impertinent.

Rey Palpatine, Empress of the Galaxy, Lady of the Sith Eternal, does not get cold.

She is about to reprimand her enforcer when he steps forward. She can feel his presence looming above her. 

“Ren,” she warns, but her voice quavers. It’s not from the cold.

He moves even closer. He is like a pillar of roiling fury in the Force, but he betrays no outward sign of the maelstrom.

 _Darkness preserve me_ , she curses inwardly. _He is so strong with the Force._

“My lady,” he whispers, dark and rough. “Tell me what you require.” The warmth of his breath brushes her bare collarbone. 

“Do not presume to give me orders, slave,” she hisses. 

He slides his right hand across her bare skin and encircles the column of her throat. “Apologies, Empress.” He tightens his grip. “You looked cold.”

Her breath shudders in his grasp. She imagines how his black leather glove looks contrasted against her pale skin. Her neck grows hot. A blush rushes down her chest. Something uncurls deep in her belly. 

His other hand settles on her shoulder and pulls her flush against his hulking body. Warmth sweeps through her entire person. She can feel her blood pound, thick and hot, between her thighs. Her muscles clench in time to her ragged breathing.

Kylo Ren’s hand is enormous. His fingers completely envelop her neck. 

She should stop him. She should gather the Force and strike him down. She should take up her sabers and remove his hands from her body, and then from his arms. Instead, she gives in to her fervor. Her body trembles. She allows herself to drift in his heated embrace. 

He begins to flex his hand. One moment, she feels cradled, the next, strangled. Her breath comes in hitches and gasps. Something like fire dances through her limbs.

Her eyes flutter shut and her head falls back to rest on his impossibly broad chest. Lighting plays behind her eyelids. His lips are at her cheek. His mouth ghosts kisses down, down, down, stopping at her pulse point, just above where he has collared her. She swallows. Her throat ripples against his leather-covered palm.

Suddenly, he surges forward, removing all space between them. The hard length of his cock presses against her back. He gives a small thrust. Her cunt pulses and weeps, hoping that he will make good on his promise. Desire swarms her like a fever. She can feel a moan blossom in her throat and she clenches her teeth to cage it. 

“Are you warm now, Mistress?”

Her eyes snap open. She clutches her own fist. The Force flows through her. He starts to choke. His hands slip from her body as he falls to the ground. She turns and looks down at him. She smiles at her tall, strong Knight, writhing in pain at her feet. “Yes, Kylo Ren,” she says archly. “I am quite warm.”

She steps over his thrashing body and walks back to her shuttle.

A few steps from the entrance she pauses, and turns back. Her voices lilts through the night. “When we return to the ship, report to my quarters immediately.”

She releases her knight. Even before he can truly catch his breath, he rises to his knees and bows his head. “As you wish, Empress.” 

Her body thrums in furious anticipation.


End file.
